


Lost

by honestfalco



Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: Angst, Breakup, Emotions, M/M, Team Solomid, argument
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 01:09:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14008896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honestfalco/pseuds/honestfalco
Summary: It's over. Never again would he get to see his soft face, adorable smile, or hold his hand. His feelings of guilt and regret and anger and sadness built up inside of him.Inspired by "The Brink of Pain" by AeonWing! It's an amazing story so definitely check it out.Some Biolift angst ,,This is my first time writing angst oof I hope it's good





	Lost

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Brink of Pain](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12840210) by [AeonWing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AeonWing/pseuds/AeonWing). 



The room was quiet.

Its silence was almost deafening. 

Vincent sat on the bed, head in his hands. He knew exactly what was coming. He knew what he had to do.

The silence was softly broken by familiar footsteps, moving towards their room. After a few steps, the door slowly creaked open. 

"Vincent?" Peter softly exclaimed, peering inside. "Are you okay...?"

"Peter," Vincent replied sternly. "I need to talk to you."

At that moment, Peter's expression turned to quiet shock. He felt his emotions drain away, and a sense of panic washed over him. "Wh..." was all he could get out before Vincent stood up.

"Peter, I hope you realize I'm leaving soon. I'm leaving for CLG." An angry, exasperated expression lay on his face. His lips were pressed together tightly in anger. "And I hope you understand why."

Peter seemed to say something, but Vincent was too caught up in his emotions to notice. This was hard for him, but he knew what he had to do. 

"Being on TSM has been too much for me. Greatness is expected of me and I feel like I just can't grant that. You constantly act like you and I are at the top of the world, undefeatable, yet you yell at me for my mistakes. You smile and wave while at the stadium, but once we get home, it's all yelling. And I still have those bruises."

Peter gasped at the mention of these bruises. "That was your fault." He replied. "You were the one who tripped. That wasn't my fault."

"IT DOESN'T. MATTER." Vincent raised his voice. "I feel like I couldn't live up to the standards you set for me. The ones you constantly put me down for when I wasn't able to fulfill them. And I expressed this to you, yet you a-acted the same." Vincent's breath got caught in his throat as he choked back tears.

"Hey, I-I'm... I'm sorry..." Peter approached the shorter boy, reaching out to comfort him. 

"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME." Vincent lashed out, causing Peter to step back in alarm. The older boy's expression changed from caring to angry. His breaths became heavy with emotion. 

"Vincent, I can't believe you think you can just fucking take me for granted like that. I was here for you, I told you I was there to help you improve. You started those yelling matches. This is how I help my friends improve alongside me. But I guess it doesn't mean anything to you anymore, does it?" Peter wiped away a stray tear he had caught running down his cheek.

"IMPROVEMENT MY ASS," Vincent lashed out again. "YOU JUST WANTED ME TO BE ABLE TO CARRY YOU TO FAME." 

"I DON'T NEED A SHITTY SUPPORT TO CARRY ME," Peter replied harshly. "YOU'RE ON THE BEST TEAM IN AMERICA. YOU ARENT ALLOWED TO MAKE ROOKIE MISTAKES ANYMORE."

Vincent stepped back, surprised by what Peter had said. 

"YOU WOULD BE NOTHING WITHOUT ME."

Vincent then replied almost immediately. 

"YEAH, WELL I DON'T NEED A NARCISSISTIC ADC TO TELL ME HOW TO PLAY MY FUCKING GAME."

"IT'S NOT YOUR GAME, DIPSHIT." Peter was breathing heavily again. "THIS IS A TEAM GAME. IN CASE YOU HAVEN'T NOTICED."

"YEAH, AND SOME FUCKING TEAMMATE YOU ARE." He shouted.

"WANNA SEE THESE BRUISES? THEY'RE STILL THERE. AND IM NOT TALKING ABOUT THE ONES FROM THE CHAIRS." Vincent hastily started taking off his shirt, to reveal a few, dark, purple and blue spots across his chest, back, and arms. There were even a few scratches running along the bruises on his back.

"Fuck..." Peter murmured. He was taken back by the bruises and scratches. He had no idea he made visible marks. He scoffed.

"So is that why you're leaving for CLG?" Peter hissed, circling Vincent slowly. "Is it because you can't handle my criticism?" The words left an awful taste in his mouth.

"Is it because of the marks? I hope you remember how you consented to those. You begged me to do that to you. And all of a sudden it's a problem?" He left his words hanging in the air as he turned to face the shaking boy. If looks could kill, Peter would be fucking dead. 

Vincent's glare shot knives. 

"I'm sorry you feel the need to leave us for that shithole of a team." He threw a glare back at Vincent. "Maybe when you're sleeping with Trevor instead, it'll be easier for you to forget our relationship." 

That seemed to be the last straw for Vincent, as he approached Peter in a few quick steps. "LEAVE TREVOR OUT OF THIS." He exclaimed. He had backed the taller boy up against a wall. 

Maybe it was something about the rookie's furrowed brows, his voice while he yelled, or how his tousled, bedhead hair looked. Maybe it was how he was panting from the anger and yelling. It stung to recognize this feeling.

The feeling of guilt.

He knew that he was the cause of his anger.

His pain.

He was sorry that this couldn't end better than how it had ended with Zaq. It gave him indescribably horrible feelings to remind himself of his past with Zaqueri.

And it hurt. It hurt more than seeing both of them run off with Trevor. It hurt more than when both of them started sleeping in another bed. 

"Fucking coward," Vincent murmured just loud enough for Peter to hear.

"What was that?" Peter asked angrily, pretending he didn't understand. He shoved Vincent away, letting the smaller boy crash into their desk. 

Despite his pain, this feeling persisted. Vincent's stomach churned in emotional agony. The back of his mind reminded him of Peter's happy voice, laughs, and the good times they've spent together. The victories, the tough losses, the games they played, and those glances that he caught Peter giving him when they first met. It felt like looking back through time. Was this the feeling of legitimate heartbreak? 

He hated it. He hated those thoughts he was having. He hated how he had to bite his tongue to restrain himself from beating the shit out of Peter. He wanted to knock that sly smirk off his face. He hated the feeling of hot tears streaming down his face. He hated that his pain was visible to Peter.

"I fucking hate you, Peter." He spat out those words. He spat them out like their taste was too vile to swallow.

"I fucking hate all the things you do to me." He continued. "I fucking hate the way you make me feel. I fucking hate the way you've treated me. And I'm so fucking glad I get to move out of this goddamn house. Where I don't have to think about the memories we've made."

"YOU'RE JUST LIKE ZAQUERI." Peter hissed. "Running off with some fucking loser. He's no better than I am." He defended himself. "It's just going to end up the same for you. You're gonna be the same entitled rookie you've always been."

Vincent choked back a sob. "Fuck off, Peter. Just because you think you're so incredible at this dumb video game doesn't give you an excuse to feel so high and mighty all the time. You're trash, Yiliang Peng. Go crawl back to Team Liquid where you can rot."

Those words felt like a slice in the gut. The way Vincent stomped on his team like that. He didn't even have a chance to move into the house yet, and already he feels rejected from his team. By Vincent, of all people. 

His emotions swirled into sickness. His vision was blurry from anger, devastation, and hatred. All he could do was blame himself. His tears were controlling themselves now; white-hot anger in the form of saltwater. This felt different than his ending with Zaq. Things had already been declining by then. But this was worse. It all seemed so perfect before this incident. Every moment felt like they were walking through a field of daisies together. It felt like a honeymoon, as they were blissfully in love. Now, all he could do was watch, in pain, as Vincent went through the same journey with Trevor as the one they went through together. Holding hands with Joo-sung just wasn't the same as holding Vincent's. And he knew he would never experience the same thing. 

He didn't even grant the older boy a proper goodbye. Vincent just slowly exited the room, leaving Peter in emotional shock. Peter sat there, sobbing for about an hour before he collapsed onto the carpeted ground and fell asleep, hoping to postpone this pain in his gut that reminded him of all the mistakes he'd made. He hoped to forget the cold glare that Vincent gave him. The glare that felt wrong. It was so unlike him. His words, his screaming, and the feelings Peter could so effortlessly sense on him. He felt alone as his heart took a plunge into depression. He hoped to forget all the things they went through together. He hoped he could forget all of Vincent's smiles and jokes and all of his kisses. 

He hoped he could forget the love he still felt for him.


End file.
